


Fucking Cops (Literal And Figurative)

by tielan



Series: Not A Tame Lion [3]
Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot, Porn, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate knows not to get involved with cops, it only ever leads to trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fucking Cops (Literal And Figurative)

The next time is after Will and the others get back from Colombia with Tesla, having narrowly escaped death by sourceblood-seeking bugs.

Kate's not shaking when she knocks on Will's door sometime just after midnight. Everything is tightly controlled, locked down, calm. "Mind if I come in?"

He even sits like a psych, she notes as she roams about the room, unable to stay still, fighting the urge to run - to walk out of this room, out of the Sanctuary, and go to ground. She's felt restless ever since they got back from the trap to catch O'Farrow - the one in which the cop died.

"You weren't responsible for his death."

The look she shoots him is scornful. "I know that."

"Yeah, but you're having trouble believing it." He sees way too much with those big blues of his, and Kate suddenly knows it was a bad idea to come here. Fucking cops. You don't get involved with them - dead or alive - it's just asking for trouble.

But he reaches her as she's pulling the door open, his hand pushing the door shut as he stands behind her. "Kate."

She swallows. "Don't talk, okay? I don't want to talk."

This time, Kate sets the pace, and Will lets her do with him as she likes. When she sinks her teeth into the join between neck and shoulder, he gasps but his fingers only tighten on her arms. When she thrusts her breasts into his face, he tongues them with feathery strokes until she's close to screaming. When she goes down on him, he takes her torment until he's shaking with the strain of holding off.

It's not gentle or teasing or nice.

When Kate finishes, his hands gripping her breasts, her nails biting into his hips, they're both shaking.

The kiss he drags from her before she climbs off has little gentleness to it. In fact, it feels a bit like a brand.

\--

It becomes an irregular thing - a night here, an afternoon there - intermittent, casual.

Will doesn't mind, although sometimes he'd like to sleep through the night and wake up beside her. He'd like more than a morning quickie on his desk, her fingers gouging dents in his back, or long, slow afternoon fucks in the windowseat of her aerie hideaway when they talk until speech is lost in the hum of the blood as everything comes together in climax.

But Kate's a cat who walks alone and takes care of herself.

Will can't change that, and he's not even sure he would if he could.


End file.
